


Niche

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Telepathy is an unproven method of communication, you know that,” Komi said, nudging him with his elbow.<br/>“Not that we’re stopping you. It’s gotta be a start,” Sarukui added.<br/>“Do you two take lessons in ambiguity?”<br/>“Huh?”<br/>“I have no fricking idea what you’re talking about,” Konoha muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to be.”</p>
<p>It's the second weekend of training camp, and for some reason, Konoha's team mates keep hinting that he has to sort things out with Akaashi. The thing is, Konoha has no idea what the problem is, or if it even exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Niche

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museicalitea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/gifts).



> This fic has been written for the hqrarepairs exchange and for the BEAUTIFUL and INCREDIBLY TALENTED Megan (museicalitea)
> 
> Megan requested, amongst other pairings, Konoha/Akaashi, and this is what I came up with. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The best thing about volleyball, the reason he’d taken a liking to it when he first started playing was, for Konoha Akinori, the feeling he could fly. These days, it was about jumping in the air, not always powering a ball to the ground, but athletic leaps and bounds, fast runs and split second timing, observing the game and having to make decisions as quick as a whip crack.  But when he’d first started to play and had hit a ball over the net, he’d been sure he’d actually hovered in the air, before landing with a crash.

He’d likened it to when he was six and the time he’d fallen off a swing.  There’d been an incredible moment when he’d decided to jump off at the uppermost curve of the swing, and his stomach awash with butterflies, had turned to wasps when his hands had slipped from the rope, and he’d slid, rather than flown, and crashed to the ground. Winded and down, his lungs crushed with lack of air, his mom had rushed to help him back on his feet, chiding him once she’d seen there were no injuries for being reckless.

_I thought I could fly,_ he’d tried to explain.

She sucked in a breath, and patted his back, finding his shoulder blades and pressing hard. “These aren’t wing stumps, Aki-chan. You’re not a bird.”

Bruises had faded to yellow, and the graze on his elbow had long since scabbed over and healed, but the ache inside continued. For the realisation that he had no wings, and would never scale the heights he wanted, had dawned on him slowly, adding to the loss.

***

“You’re staring again,” Komi whispered.

“How can you tell what he’s doing?” Sarukui asked. “His eyes are so narrow, he could be asleep.”

Not wanting to know what they were on about, Konoha pretended he hadn’t heard, and helped himself to more tamagoyaki.  It was the second weekend of training camp, and already he could feel the temperature rising as the sun streamed in through the windows. In the far corner, the Karasuno team sat together, bleary eyed. Nekoma on the table next to them shared a few jokes, Yamamoto tossing wet serviettes at the bald guy from Karasuno, when his coach wasn’t looking. Shinzen had already finished, no doubt setting out on a run before the matches started, and Ubugawa were half a team, their younger players having left, leaving the older ones to enjoy a last drink.

He chewed his food, reached for his juice and listened as Washio started to explain the plot of a manga he’d been reading. It was complicated, something about shapeshifters, and not knowing who was from what time, and all Konoha could hope was that he was nodding and uh-huh’ing in the right places.  Out of the corner of his eye, Konoha watched Bokuto spinning round on the bench to yell something at Kuroo, and he hid a smirk when Akaashi closed his eyes, the sigh visible even if inaudible.

“Telepathy is an unproven method of communication, you know that,” Komi said, nudging him with his elbow.

“Not that we’re stopping you. It’s gotta be a start,” Sarukui added.

“Do you two take lessons in ambiguity?”

“Huh?”

“I have no fricking idea what you’re talking about,” Konoha muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to be.”

“Assignation?”

“I need a crap,” he said sourly. “See you on court.”

 

After that, the day didn’t start well, and losing a set obviously hadn’t improved Konoha’s mood. Ubugawa’s serves had got through. Fukurodani’s wall had leaked, and luck had not been on their side. In the grand scheme of things at training camp, this wasn’t important – everyone knew they were the strongest side, so they played all out, desperate to get one over on them.  There was no one to blame, the coach said, adding in the next breath that he was going to switch one or two players out for the next game.

And there was no reason for Konoha to believe he’d be switched out, but that didn’t stop the rasp in his throat as they ran their forfeit.

“How the fuck do Karasuno keep this up?” Komi muttered, running alongside.

Konoha tried to reply, but his breath was coming out in gasps now. Ahead he could see Bokuto, his stride erratic, twisting a little, and turning his head around to exhort the others on. Beside him, Akaashi kept pace, far more efficient with his limbs, elbows close to his body, and concentrating only on the finishing line ahead.

“Eyes on the prize, huh?” Komi said.

“What?”

“You could catch him if you tried.”

“I’m better here. Bokuto’ll speed up and run me ragged if I try to compete.”

Komi pressed his lips together, kept his head down and increased his face, stolidly attacking the path in front of them.

“Can’t risk any of us getting injured,” Konoha continued. “And if we wear ourselves out, we’ll get another forfeit.”

“Tell that to our glorious Captain.”

Konoha kept silent. Nothing short of a mallet on the back of the head would stop Bokuto.

“You think he’d listen?”

“Not to us,” Komi said pointedly.

With refilled water bottles and ice-cold melon waiting for them as they finished, Konoha eased his pace as he ran in sixth out of the team. Not first, not last, but average. His legs felt heavy, but he didn’t collapse on the ground, preferring to bend over hands on his knees as he willed his heart to stop pounding. He glanced up, catching Bokuto now emptying water over his head and shaking like a dog, droplets of water scattering on everyone around him. (Akaashi, naturally, but also Onaga who’d caught them all on the final run in coming in first.)

“More water melon, Konoha-san,” lilted the singsong voice of Suzumeda.

He smiled, hoping he looked gracious, and accepted another slice. “Where’s Shirofuku-san? I thought she’d be out here with you.”

“Talking to Yamiji-san,” she replied and gave him a hint of a wink, whispering, “If she’d been here, I’m not sure there’d have been enough melon for a second slice.”

He laughed as she moved on, then palming the pips in his hand, he swallowed some more water and straightened up and wandered across to Sarukui and Washio, both taking advantage of the shade from the cherry tree.

“Who’s up next, Saru?”

“Nekoma.”

“Gah, just what we need. Pain in the ass cats. It’s gonna be another close one,” Washio muttered. He scowled. Usually it wasn’t aimed at anyone in particular, just his usual expression, but today he appeared to be focusing on someone, but who it was Konoha couldn’t tell because he was gazing at the open door of the gym.

“What’s up, Tatsu?”

“The coach is fixing to mix things up,” he said. “Maybe bring some of the second years in.”

“Well, isn’t that the point of training camp?” Sarukui said, and wrinkled up his nose. “Like, none of us is guaranteed a place, and the other guys need a chance.”

“You worry too much,” Konoha replied, flapping his hand. “This is where we’re honing our skills. Sure, we’ll get swapped out, but the coach knows we’re the core. Onaga-kun’s got the most to worry about, I guess, but-” He shrugged. “He’s tall and there’s no one with his height amongst the second years. None of them stand out.”

Snorting, Washio tipped the rest of his water down his throat, swallowing before he replied. “None of us stand out, Akinori-kun. That’s the point. Ever get the feeling we’re interchangeable as long as _that_ guy does his stuff.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“The way I see it,” Washio said, warming to his theme and scowling even deeper at Sarukui’s eye rolls. “Only two people are safe on the team. Bokuto – natch and Akaashi-kun, ‘cause someone has to handle our Ace.”

“There’s Komi,” Sarukui put in.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I ain’t counting Liberos. He’s clearly the safest pair of hands at Fukurodani. But apart from that ...” He inhaled. “We clearly gotta up our game, I’m tellin’ ya.”

“ _Clearly,_ ” Sarukui mocked in undertone.

But Konoha frowned as Washio walked off to refill his bottle. “Reckon he’s right?”

“Can’t stay still, you know that. And we need to work cohesively as a team.”

“Mmm, but we’re strong.”

“Bokuto’s been practising with some of the Karasuno guys,” Sarukui murmured, veering off onto a different tangent,

“What – their captain?”Shit, that’d be cool. Sawamura was seriously good at receives.

He shook his head. “The glasses guy and Shrimpy-chan.”

“Huh?”

“Kuroo and that Russian kid, too.”

“Kuroo makes sense. But the others?”

“Don’t ask me,” Sarukui said, palms outstretched to the side. “But it’s different. Maybe our Ace is picking up new stuff, too.” Cupping his right elbow with his left hand, Sarukui pulled out a stretch, and then rolled both his shoulders, wincing a little as something jarred. “Want to practise some spikes?”

Which meant Saru powering down the ball, causing the gym to quake, while he failed to make the same vibration. Sure he was faster, and his technique better, but when Bokuto drooped, it was power they looked for and not finesse.

“Yeah, sure. We could do with a Setter, though.”

Sarukui flipped him a look then across to Akaashi. “Our new Vice Captain will, if you ask nicely.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” His eyes actually rolled, an exaggerated movement that was obviously supposed to mean something, but quite what Konoha didn’t know.

“Why?”

His lips twitched. Even for Sarukui, whose mouth was a permanent wave of amusement, he looked as if he were pissing himself over something. “Just ask him, will you?”

“Are you going to tell me what the joke is?”

“There’s no joke. I always look like this,” Sarukui replied – his standard response, but he was pressing his lips together now and his shoulders were shaking.

“Fine, I will!”  Hands on hips, giving the best possible impression that he didn’t give a flying fuck about the joke, he hollered, “Hey, Akaashi-kun-”

“No, no, not out loud!” Sarukui tugged on his arm. “Now, we’ll get -”

“Konoha-san?” Akaashi bowed his head, taking a step away from Bokuto.

“Will you toss for us? Quick practise before lunch.”

Bokuto’s head whipped around, and cutting Onaga off mid-sentence, he bounded along to them, pushing Akaashi forwards. “Hey, hey, great idea! A two-on-two.”

“And that’s why I told you to do it on the sly,” Sarukui muttered from the corner of his mouth.

“You didn’t say anything except to ask him,” Konoha retorted. “Anyway, there was no way Akaashi-kun’s going to practise away from our beloved captain. They were manacled together before he got the Vice Captain’s shirt, so why would it be any different now?”

“Not that you’re letting it get to you, eh, Kono-chan?”

 “Huh?” For what felt like the twentieth time that day, Konoha was left bewildered by a teammate. “Is there something in the water?”

“Hmm?” Sarukui raised an eyebrow, before stepping out from under the tree, as Bokuto and Akaashi approached.

“Everyone’s full of cryptic remarks and I-”

“Two-on-two, right?” Bokuto enthused, clapping his hands together. “Hey, Akaashi-kun, we’re gonna show them who’s the boss, right?”

“If you-” Akaashi faltered, then finding his hands suddenly fascinating, raised his voice. “I’m not entirely sure that’s what Konoha-san had in mind.”

“Two-on-two’s great,” Sarukui said.

_Is it?_ Konoha stopped himself from pointing out it had been Saru complaining.

“But ... uh ... maybe we should mix things up a bit.”

_Ah, that’s more like it._ Always the diplomat, he’d probably make Bokuto think it was all his idea.

“What, like I’ve been doing with the Karasuno guys?” Bokuto asked, He screwed up his face, considering. “I guess we could ask some of them along.”

“They’re currently doing another forfeit and then they’re having a team session,” Akaashi murmured. “If we want more practice, then perhaps we should get to the gym and not stand around debating the whys and wherefores.”

“Well, I don’t know what he said,” Bokuto grinned, “but I ain’t arguing.”

“I wasn’t arguing,” Sarukui protested, glancing despairingly at Konoha.”You explain.”

“Me?”

“What is going on?” Bokuto demanded as he started to jog towards the gym. “Ya either want to practise, or ya don’t. But let’s make it lively, ‘k, or else I’ll practise alone.”

“With Akaashi, you mean,” Sarukui said. He bent down to pick up a water bottle, flicked his hair off his face (the curls bounced back almost immediately despite their dampness) and began to follow.

“Course. He’s the best Setter we got.”

“And that’s why we want to practise with him,” Sarukui explained. “Isn’t that right, Kono-chan?”

_Why the fuck is he staring at me like that? And what is it with that wink?  But ... yeah ... he’s right._

“So you don’t want a two on two?” Bokuto questioned.

“Not really. We want equal time with the Setter, Ace,” Sarukui said, and his eyes flickered towards Akaashi. “I’m sure you’d appreciate it, too, eh, Akaashi-kun? Like ... uh ... how about you pair up with Konoha first off?”

Akaashi’s face was impassive. It always was, and it struck Konoha just then that he’d rarely seen it otherwise off court. On court was different, on court Akaashi’s features came more alive than Konoha would have  thought possible. Even then, it was hard to divine exactly what he was thinking, but he showed more passion in one set, than he did during their entire training sessions. And according to Suzumeda-kun, he was like that in lessons too.

How had we got on to that subject? he wondered, blinking furiously. Why was I even asking people about Akaashi?

“So you don’t want me at all?” Bokuto said, now aghast.

Akaashi interrupted, placing his hand on Bokuto’s arm. “If that will help, then of course. It’s for the good of the team, after all.” He inclined his head. “Konoha-san, I’m all yours.”

Bokuto shrugged, and Konoha could tell he wasn’t entirely happy with the situation, but short of pulling the Captain’s card and demanding everything his way, then there wasn’t much he could do. And despite his assurances, Akaashi didn’t look exactly comfortable either, his knuckles whitening on his water bottle as he held it up to his lips.

“So we’re blocking for Aki, now, right,” Bokuto grumbled. “I guess I can do that.”

Sarukui twisted towards him. “Or we could practise something else. I overheard Kuroo saying he wanted to perfect a jump serve. You’d ... uh ... hate to be overtaken by him, wouldn’t you, Ace?”

“Damn straight.” He glowered. “C’mon, Monkey, let’s go find some balls.”

“That’s ... uh ... sorted out, then,” Konoha said, and grinned as Bokuto stormed towards the gym, muttering Kuroo’s name and several expletives in the same breath.  “Just you and me then, eh, Akaashi-kun?”

“Mmm.” Akaashi finished another slow swallow of drink. “It will be a refreshing change having someone who listens, Konoha-san. Like a holiday.”

“I could ... uh... ask some of the others, if you’d rather.”

“Would _you_ rather?”

“Me?”

Akaashi nodded.

“Uh... no ... not unless you’d like to have other people around, like ... uh ... to mix your tosses up a bit. I could get Bokuto back. Yeah. Would you like that? Would it be better if ... uh ...?”

_Why the fuck am I babbling like an idiot?  Jeez, it’s only Akaashi. Getting that Vice Captain’s shirt hasn’t suddenly made him a god, for fuck’s sake._

“Konoha-san.” Akaashi stopped walking planting his feet firmly on the ground, and stared Konoha directly in the eye. “I would appreciate some time working with you – if that is all right?”

“With me?  Why? Is there a problem with the way I hit your toss?”

Akaashi’s brow had furrowed, real consternation flashing from his eyes. “It’s nothing to do with you as a player.”

“Then?”

“Are you pissed off that I was made Vice Captain?” The question was aimed with all the rapidity of a rifle shot.

“Huh?”

“After Ishigawa-san left, I was left with the distinct impression it was between the pair of us, so I wanted to make sure that ...” He paused again, now chewing at his lip. “It’s been mentioned that you might have been expecting the _opportunity_ to have come your way?”

“Me? Uh ...” He narrowed his eyes. “Who said that?”

“I’d rather not ... um ...” Suddenly uncertain, he swallowed.  “Sorry, forget I said anything. I’ve clearly got the wrong end of the stick.”

“Komi or Sarukui?”

“Uh.” He grimaced, then picked up the pace towards the gymnasiums at the back of the outbuildings.

“They’ve been niggling at me all day about you, so it’s one or the other, maybe both,” Konoha said, jogging as he followed, not willing to let the subject drop.

“Konoha-san, I don’t want to ... this was really so we could clear the air. At least I assume that was why we were prompted to practise together.”

“I wasn’t aware there was anything to clear,” Konoha retorted, and then he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Akaashi-kun, when you were given the Vice Captaincy I was a little ...  I dunno ... irritated, I guess – no one likes rejection –but, uh, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. And I’m over it.”

Raising his eyebrows, Akaashi walked up the steps of the gym and pressed his nose against the window. “Shinzen’s in there. We’ll have to find somewhere else. I was surprised, by the way. It’s not as if there weren’t any third years that could have done the job.”

Konoha laughed. “Nah, you were the obvious choice. When Bokuto gets in his moods, Sarukui laughs, I get snarky and Washio thinks violence is the answer.  But it’s kinda glorious, you know, watching you deliver the burns before he’s realised.”  He paused for breath, then added in a more solemn tone, “And I think you needed it more than me.”

Akaashi stared across at Konoha, then started down the steps, but this time he didn’t head for another gym, instead crouching down to tighten his lace. “What do you mean, I needed it more than you?” he muttered, not looking up.

“It gives you some authority.”

“Which you think I’m lacking?”

“Not really, but it always seemed to me that you were unsure of your role. The rest of us, well, we pretty much knew you were bright as soon as you arrived on the scene, so we were always going to  listen to you, Akaashi-kun – even Washio. He might look as if he’s angry, but-”

“It’s his natural expression,” Akaashi replied with a small grin. “Yes, I worked that out in the first week. Just as I realised Sarukui-san wasn’t constantly amused at everything.”

“To be fair, that screwball does find a lot of stuff funny.” Seeing that Akaashi hadn’t moved, Konoha sat on the gym steps, stretching out his legs. “What did you think of me in your first week?” He coughed and leant back to soak up the sun. “Once you’d noticed I was around. Must have taken a while, I guess, seeing as Bokuto’s always been pretty full on with the new guys.”

“You ... oh ...” He stopped tying his lace then switched to the other one, picking at the knot with his fingernails.  “It was ... different.”

“Nothing to notice, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Konoha thought he heard him say, but it was possible he’d imagined it and then Akaashi sighed and glanced over to him. “You were hard to peg, Konoha-san. The others have certain strengths, certain characteristics, so they were easy to associate with those quirks, but you were difficult.”

“No strengths, huh?” he replied, and wondered why a bitter taste had settled on his tongue.

“We played a practise match in my first month at Fukurodani. Do you remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“We were on opposite sides of the court. Two mixed teams of first and second years. I played with Bokuto and Washio.”

“Ah, yeah, we beat you.” He smirked, remembering the shitstorm Bokuto’s dejected mode had triggered, causing two of the new players to leave for the basketball team. “And that’s when you noticed me?”

“I underestimated the team we were facing. I thought because I was reasonably good Setter, and we had the up and coming Ace, it would be a walkover.” He chuckled to himself. “I underestimated _you_ , Konoha-san.”

“But it was Saru who scored the most, and _we_ had Komi.”

“Mmm, but you were the backbone. The Jack-”

“Don’t say it.”

“Sorry.” He smiled, lips together. “You don’t like the epithet.”

“Celebrating my mediocrity. Would you?”

“You’re _not_ mediocre.”

“But I don’t shine.” He stopped squinting at the sun and closed his eyes. The heat scorched his face, and he knew he should shift to the shade before he burnt, but that would mean disrupting the moment and he realised, just then, how much he wanted to hear Akaashi’s opinion.  

 “Supernovas burn out, Konoha-san. Ours does on an alarmingly frequent rate.”

There was a silence, no words but the careful tread of trainers on grass, and then a faint displacement of air, and although his eyes were still shut tight, he knew Akaashi was sitting alongside.

“Which is why your _versatility_ is important.”

His voice was soft like a breeze, and there was no doubting the sincerity behind his words.

“It’s dull, though.” Konoha admitted then opened his eyes, focusing on a small cloud drifting aimlessly across the sky. “When I was a kid, I wanted to fly, you know. I guess it was my way of wanting to be special – all kids want that, right? And then I found volleyball, and for a while at Junior High, I found my niche as the kid that could jump and power the ball over the net.  I was tall then - I mean in comparison with the others - but now, I’m niche _less_.” He smiled, trying to take the melancholy out of his words, but he doubted Akaashi had been fooled. “Face it, the only time I’m noticed is when Ace-kun serves into the back of my head.”

“I notice you.” The words came out abruptly, and twisting to face Akaashi, Konoha saw his rapid blinks and ... was that a faint flush on his cheeks, or had he simply been staring at the sun too long.

 “Sorry ... f-forget I said that.”

Unaccountably, Konoha felt his mouth dry. “You mean on court?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” Akaashi whistled a breath between his teeth.

_Ah, good._

_I think?_

“You’re always in my peripheral vision, Konoha-san. I f-feel I should utilise you more, if I’m honest, but ... uh ...”

“Bokuto’s there, yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“He’s louder.”

“I must remember to shout more,” he said wryly, then laughed. “HEY, Hey, HEYYYYY!”

Akaashi chuckled. “You do sound a lot like him.”

“Just a shame I can’t play the same way. We’d be invincible.”

“More like eminently beatable. Two Bokutos clamouring for the same ball.” He shuddered. “Two Dejected Modes – imagine that.”

“Horrifying.” Konoha grinned, and the weight he hadn’t even realised was there lifted from his shoulders. “We haven’t practised anything.”

“Does that matter?” Akaashi asked, peering at Konoha from under his lashes. “Perhaps timeout – connecting – is what we really needed, Konoha-san. This has ... uh ... cleared the air, at least.”

“There was nothing to be cleared. I don’t know what the guys said, but I never felt any malice towards you. They shouldn’t have spread stories. They were messing with your head.”

“Ah. Yes, possibly. Although to be fair to them, it was me who asked if there was a problem.”

Konoha met his gaze, stared at the heavy lids, and the deadpan expression that on anyone else would look sulky, yet rendered somewhat beautiful by the sharp cheekbones. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why did you think there was a problem between us, Akaashi-kun?”

He heard the indrawn breath, saw the calculation occurring in his eyes, the decision whether to speak. And he waited, not knowing what was about to be said, or even what he wanted to hear.

“You kept staring at me,” Akaashi admitted at last. “I thought perhaps you resented my presence on the team.”

“I never resented you,” Konoha murmured. He stared down at his hand, so close to Akaashi’s. If he stretched out his little finger, they’d be touching. The thought made him shiver, but not with horror, more the terror of what this might mean.

“And then, when I was made Vice, you became more distant, but still, I’d catch you staring. It ... uh ... unnerved me.”

_Fuck._

“I’m sorry, Akaashi-kun. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he muttered, and furled his hand into a fist. “It really isn’t any of those things.”

“Good.” He leant back on his elbows, copying Konoha’s posture. “You know that ‘Jack of all trades’ name isn’t such an insult.”

Rolling his eyes, Konoha grimaced. “Master of none sure sounds like an insult to me.”

“ _’Jack of all trades, master of none’_ ,” Akaashi intoned as he flashed Konoha a look, “’ _though oftentimes better than master of one’._ ”

“Whoa! That’s actually cool.”

And then Akaashi laughed, and it was so rare to hear, to see the way his eyes crinkled at the sides, how white his teeth were, and how one was just a little crooked, that Konoha felt a sudden constriction in his chest, as if ... as if he was six years old and had fallen off his swing again.

_Or maybe it’s that moment before the crash when the sky is limitless._

He stretched out his fingers, taking the risk, rising above the ordinary, and slid his fingertips across Akaashi’s hand.

“I notice you, too,” he muttered.  “And not just on court.”

They stared at each other, neither breathing as the gesture hovered between them. A moment where it would be so easy to shrug the contact off both physically and mentally. Where they could go back as teammates and nothing more, strengthened by this clearing of the air.

Then Akaashi broke the stillness, splaying his hand to entwine their fingers.  

“Holy crap, I think he likes me!”

Akaashi grinned at him; Konoha yelped. “Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he replied, and taking a breath, he shuffled closer. “And, uh, I do like you, Konoha-san.”

A lazy smile on his face, Konoha tugged Akaashi to him just as a loud crash, as if a ball had been served into the gymnasium door, reverberated towards them.  He narrowed his eyes, watching the rise and fall of Akaashi’s chest as he waited.

“They’ll be piling out of there for lunch soon,” Konoha hissed. “And we’re supposed to be practising,”

“I think that was a ruse so we’d talk,” Akaashi replied.

“True. But ... uh ... how about we tell everyone we need another session? In private.”

“Only one?”

 “As many as it takes.” Getting up, he pulled Akaashi to his feet, and whispered, “It’s imperative I find my niche in the team, and as Vice Captain, you’re duty bound to help.” He held the back of his hand to his brow, imploring melodramatically, “For the sake of the team, and the honour of Fukurodani, Akaashi-kun.”

Although his face had slipped back into its usual mask, Akaashi’s eyes twinkled merrily under his heavy lids. “I have a feeling it could take the rest of the summer, Konoha-san.”

“Funny that, so do I.”

As Shinzen bowled out of the gym, they disengaged their hands to head towards the cafeteria, the brushing of their arms the only reminder of the contact they’d had.

He turned his face to the side, breathing on Akaashi’s neck. “I’m probably going to have to sit with my back to you, Akaashi-kun,” he whispered, loving the way Akaashi’s cheeks had started to pink.

“Why?”

“Because if you and everyone else thought I was staring before,” he teased. “Then fuck knows what they’re going to think now.”


End file.
